Any mother worth her salt knows to never, never ask a young artist, "Is it a (fill in the blank)?" You’re supposed to say, "Ooh, I like your sculpture; can you tell me about it?" and let the child’s conversation enlighten you as to the identity of the object she has so enthusiastically and inscrutably rendered.
I, however, have never claimed to be worth my salt. Which is why I am prone to exchanges like this one:
Me: "Ooh, what a great Sculpey lemur!"
Beanie: "Mom. It’s not a lemur. It’s a panther."
Oh, is that all?
Why I Love Talking to Alice on the Phone
The Gingerbread Man, or: The Difference Between Ages Three and Six